


Sounds gay I'm in

by koalaoshiz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, but I'll be updating any big tags if they ever come up, tags don't work on phone, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaoshiz/pseuds/koalaoshiz
Summary: This is just lots of prompts I do to have fun~
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	1. Explanation needed

"Thank you so much for helping us with that exercise." Shiro smiled at Allura, receiving a flat look from Keith at the same time. It was no wonder his friend looked so fed up with him as Shiro had been in a sour mood ever since he caught Lance trying to woo Allura and had then complained to Keith about it.

It was becoming increasingly more difficult for the black paladin to tolerate his crush from flirting with others right in front of his eyes but he knew it wouldn't be fair if he said anything to Lance about it above a "that's unbefitting of a Paladin of Voltron." It wasn't as if they were together or that Lance knew Shiro liked him. If he did knew, that would have been a much more different matter. 

"Of course," Allura said, finishing to put up her hair in a bun. "It's always a pleasure. And, if I am being honest, doing something physical will be beneficial for me as well. I am feeling stressed without mesure and exhausting myself will help in that regard."

Shiro nodded, understanding. She sure had a lot of pressure upon her shoulders with helping them take down the Galra empire, making contacts with prospective allies, running their drills, taking care of them and making sure they wouldn't die when they were thrusted into the fray. 

If they could do anything to help her in any ways, to help decrease the pressure she felt constantly, then Shiro would gladly do it. 

"Coran did say you weren't sleeping correctly." Keith pointed out, making Shiro raise an eyebrow at him. It wasn't _weird_ per say but Keith was very attentive to Allura these days. And just as miffed at Lance's behavior towards her as Shiro was. 

"He did?" Allura laughed a bit nervously, cheeks a bit rosy. Coran always meant well but sometimes he was overbearing. It was understandable that she would be embarrassed by it. 

"Before or after he started ranting about Hunk's habit of stripping down devices?" Shiro asked, raising a hand to open the door to the training room.

The room wasn't as empty as they had thought. 

"-can't help being drowned in those gorgeous eyes of yours." Lance's voice reached his ears before he was able to see him properly. "And if I do say so, the white of your hair makes them shine spendidly. Have you changed shampoo like I suggested?"

Lance was… wooing one of the Gladiator, having tipped the automaton in a dip. Shiro felt his cheek warm a little at this display of strength, knowing the Gladiators weren't light, per say. He wasn't wearing his armor, which meant he had been here to train flirting with Allura. 

He felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on his head.

Shiro cleared his throat, startling Lance who let go of the Gladiator, the resounding sound of it hitting the ground resonating in the room. Lance looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide open and cheeks aflame. 

"Having fun?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"So, hum… I can explain…?" He stammered, stepping away from the Gladiator like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't have. Beside Shiro, Allura was stifling her laughter. 

"Yes Lance. Please do explain why you were complimenting this Gladiator so enthusiastically?" She asked, biting her lips so she could contain her expression. Lance threw a look at her and, if Shiro say it correctly, he would say he was betrayed. 

"You know what, that's none of your business." He said instead, throwing a heated glare at her. "Weren't you supposed to help Coran with the crystal overcharging or whatever?" 

Allura pinched her lips, glancing at Keith who looked just as confused as Shiro was. 

"Well… I did! I did that already!" 

"Bullshit, he asked me where you went before I came here." Lance crossed his arms, mimicking Shiro's previous position. But if he was honest with himself, he was as lost as one could be. Keith looked like he wanted to say something but the situation between Allura and Lance was so strange and charged with _something_ he couldn't white explain that it felt dangerous trying to get between them. 

"Oh yeah? Weren't you supposed to help Pidge do some wiring?"

"That was yesterday and you know that perfectly because you threw me at her when Keith asked how the pool worked! That was supposed to be your task!"

"I'm a princess, Lance!" She scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. "I have other priorities, like making sure my paladins can be comfortable in my Castle!"

It was as if they forgot Shiro and Keith were in the same room, bickering at each other's throat like… like siblings. 

" _I have other priorities_..." Lance mimicked her, pulling an offended gasp from Allura. "Last week you complained about having nothing to do of the day except when you gave us drills or when we were attacked by the Galra!" 

"Don't you dare imitate me!" Allura looked like she was fuming. "I'll double your training for the week!"

"Hah! I already train more than the others bare Keith. You ain't scaring me!" Lance hollered, looking quite proud of himself.

Shiro didn't know what to think of the situation. It was far too ridiculous and they looked like they weren't going to stop yet. With a sigh, Shiro let out a piercing whistle, shocking them out of their little world. 

"Are you finished?" He asked, pinching his nose. "Lance, if you don't have anything else to do, do you want to join us in training? Some drills, two on two?" 

Lance stammered something, looking frazzled. Right at that moment, Coran opened the door to the training room.

"Ah, Lance my boy, good timing. I need you to-"

"Yes, ok! I'm coming! Sorry Shiro! I gotta gay- I mean go! I gotta go!" Lance spluttered, literally running out of the room, grabbing Coran's arm at the same time. 

Surely he didn't mean anything by his miswording… right? Thinking back to his comments on the Gladiator… Lance did give Shiro a new shampoo after going to a space mall. 

Besides Shiro, Allura was laughing quietly, as if she knew something he didn't. Well, Shiro made sure to make a mental note to ask her about that after their training session. 

Because if he had the smallest chance with Lance, then he was going to take it.


	2. Waiting for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance waits for Shiro as the later is healing, slowly, inside of a cryopod.

"It'll be ok, soon." He says at the thick glass, forehead pushing against it so he could see the person inside of it. Resting. Healing. Going better, days after days, each and every seconds stretching in front of him at a slow, torturous pace. "Don't worry, I'm here." He adds, breath fogging the glass slightly.

He can vaguely see his face behind it, eyes closed and looking peaceful. Good. Life had been so stressful for him, so full of problems, pains and hardships. If he could sleep without dreaming of anything, if he could rest his weary bones then that was all Lance could be grateful of. The pod's lights were soft on his own eyes, which reflected slightly, bizarrely due to the refraction.

He could talk all he wanted, of course. It wasn't like Shiro was going to be able to stop him anytime soon, not like he could chuckle sweetly before bringing his face down to kiss Lance silly and silent. No, Shiro was inside of a cryopod after being too stupid, ignoring Lance and ending up hurt. Lance feels himself frown but smooths his expression quickly, not wanting wrinkles on his face so soon. Didn't want Shiro to worry about him if he woke up early.

"That's so you," he continues, tutting lightly. "going headfirst into danger without listening to anyone. Without listening to me. How do you think I'm feeling right now, huh big guy?" Lance chuckled, bringing one hand onto the cold glass of the pod. "I thought I was your right hand man now, piloting Red and all. But how can I be a good enough right hand man if you go against my advice?"

He sighs, mouth coming up to a sneer that he erases just as quickly as his previous frown. Instead, he shifts from one leg to the other, preferring exhausting his temper like that than by punching something. That was Keith's thing. Shiro's thing, too, even if less often. Jealousy bubbled inside of his stomach thinking at how similar the old Red Paladin had been to Shiro, how _special_ their relationship had seemed before Keith fucked off somewhere with the BOM.

"I mean, that was kind of you but I had everything under control, Shiro." Lance doesn't quite register that his voice had gone flat. "I told you so, told you I'd come to you as soon as everything had been dealt with. If you can't listen, what am I even to you? I thought we were together, through thick and thin.

"Oh, don't make that face, Kashi. I understand now why Keith left, why Black had been so reticent taking you back. It's because you're so caught up in your idea of leadership and perfection you put blinders on over your eyes.

"I'm right here, Kashi." Lance growls, slamming his palm against the glass. Inside of the pod, Shiro doesn't react. "I'm here but Allura says _one thing_ and now you listen to her, not me?! I'm your right hand man! _I'm_ supposed to be the one you listen to, not _her_!"

"That's enough." The cold whisper behind him made him stop in his rant, body going limp as a doll as his breathing regulates without his consent. A sensation of arctic peace invades his mind, oh so different from Blue but warm in its own way. It's a burning cold that expands its roots inside of his heart, inside of his soul.

"My apologies." He drones out, his voice losing all intonations once more. "I lost control of myself."

"Voltron's quintessence is still clinging to you." The icy voice is sharp, cutting him as he understands he had disappointed _her_. "But it's the consequence of being chosen by two Lions, I presume. That is also why you were perfect, your soul molding itself depending on the quintessence used. Truly a good Blue Paladin." There's pride in her voice and it makes Lance shivers in pleasure, truly happy to have pleased her.

"Thank you, master."

"I expect a lot of things from you. And if you do everything satisfyingly enough, you will be allowed to have your toy."

"Thank you, master." Lance smiles with all his teeth, eyes shining with something somber and purple as his gaze comes back on to Shiro inside of his pod, his heart beating fast, loud. He couldn't wait until he could kiss him again, hold him again. All the things he would do with Shiro, to him, made his head swim with anticipation.

He is so preoccupied with his swirling thoughts, with the ache inside of his heart that he doesn't see Haggar leaving the room, just as he hadn't seen her come in earlier. No matter. She didn't matter, at the moment. He was so impatient to have Shiro awake once more. But Shiro had been naughty. So all he could do was wait.

Absence did make the heart grow fonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Lance knows he's being manipulated? Probably not, or not yet. Did he realizes Shiro/Kuron had been manipulated so Lance was slowly but surely pushed out of anything important related to Voltron, allienating him with his boyfriend and the team, making him easier to be taken by Haggar? There had been an inkling, but it's gone under a lot of ice and magically implanted suggestions.


	3. Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is an important day for Lance: the day he will find the one that makes the flowers in his hair bloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a break form it because of stuffs happening IRL but now I'm back at it~  
> I have a few more prompts on the back burner but I'm glad you enjoyed the previous ones~

The Risévenche festival was something Lance had waited for as long as he remembered, always seeing his elder siblings - wearing the soft lavender tunic that was obligatory for those participating - leave the house with flowers burgeoning in their hair and a bright smile on their face.

The morning of the festival, tears had come in his eyes as his mother presented his own tunic to him, smiling brightly if albeit a bit sadly. He couldn't blame her, after all he was the youngest of his siblings, the baby of the family. Seven years separated him from his older sister Rachel, and that had been as many years for him to wait, as patiently as he could.

"Don't forget to be yourself, mijo." His mother told him as she brushed his hair with her most precious comb, fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "The most important thing is to stay right by who you are. You don't need to change anything, you're perfect the way you are."

"I know, mama." Lance smiled, trying not to roll his eyes at how obvious she was trying to quell her anxiety by peptalking him.

"And it's totally ok if you come back home alone, lance. Miguel had to go for two years before finding Belinda. Your Great-Aunt Genereva spent all her youth attending without finding someone, preferring enjoying herself first. And your grandpa from your father's side-"

"I know, mama." Lance repeated, starting to get second hand nervous from her rambling. "It's ok. I know you're just worried. I'll go have fun and if I don't find anybody, I'll come back home to eat the delicious meal you're going to cook for the end of the festival."

Lance hears his mother sigh again and he twists around to hug her, melting in her warmth.

"No matter what happens, I'll always love you, mom."

"I know mijo." She kissed the top of his head before shooing him towards the door.

Nerves made him hesitate slightly, looking at himself in the mirror of the entryway: His long violet tunic made his skin glow and the small, silver ankle bracelet was a nice touch of originality.

Taking a big, deep breath Lance opened the door, feeling a tingling sensation on his scalp where he knew the buds were starting to appear as he was finaly outside of his house, shoeless feet moving on a soft blanket of flower petals. In the other houses around his, Lance could see parents proudly watching their children go outside, wearing the lilac tunic, all smiling and laughing, rejoicing as they mingled together for their traject. The place of the festival wasn't far if they took the Petal Path, Risévenche's magic shortening their travel time.

On a normal day, it would have taken them several weeks to attain it.

Risévenche's shrine was as magnificent as his siblings had described it to him: Enclosed in a greenhouse like crystal with thin, magnificently carved pillars supporting it on all sides, the shrine was engulfed in a rainbow of colored lights, bouncing off the walls and floor but never to the point of blinding the ones inside of it. Right in the middle of the large enclosure was a statue of Risévenche, sitting down with flowers made of precious stones all around it. She had been carved as if she was offering a flower crown to the participants, her gaze gentle and radiating warmth despite being made of granite.

The air was smelling sweet, the atmosphere refreshingly cool despite the ardent sun beating on the crystal dome. Fountains murmured here and there, people mingling around it, some daringly smashing others with the water.

As he advanced further inside, he lost view of the youngs of his village, his gaze wandering about. There were so many people that it made his head spin. With idle thoughts, he spotted some middle aged people walking around with a soft resignation as music began filling the air, prompting the people to offer the person closer to them for a dance. Right away, he could see flowers opening in the hair of some of the couples, eliciting delighted cries and applauds from the others surrounding them.

He's interrupted from his thoughts by a hand emerging in his field of vision, startling him slightly. 

The man that approached him looked nervous, far too much that Lance thought should be possible in this occasion but he also looked a few years older than him. Probably a reason for the hesitation in his gaze. Speaking of which, they looked steely grey and incredibly warm, even if awkward. He was also quite good looking if Lance were to be honest with himself. To think he hadn’t yet bloomed was a bit sad for him but Lance wasn’t going to let the opportunity to get a dance from a handsome man escape him. 

“Sorry to startle you, I just couldn’t help myself from going to invite you. You looked so radiant and I got attracted like a moth to a flame.”

“Well ain’t you a smooth talker.” Lance giggled, earning himself a blush and a bit of a squirm from the man. Well, as big and strong he looked, he was sensitive to teasing. Good to know. Lance wondered if the blush would go to his ears if he went a bit stronger next time. It made the scar on his nose cuter, in a way. 

“Sorry… Was it too weird? I”m not really used to this and... well, it’s not like people are actively going out of their way to talk to me…”

“What?” Lance exclaimed, extremely surprised seeing how good looking the man was. It was true people often went to the most attractive person in the shrine - as his siblings told him, because they were always jerks who only saw appearances - but to think they would avoid him… well it was surprising, to say the least. “No way! Have you seen yourself?” 

“Unfortunately…” The man sighed, rubbing his neck with his right hand and - oh. Lance understood why he had presented his left hand previously. There was a metallic prosthetic where his right arm should be, stopping somewhere above his elbow. And Lance guessed there would still be asshole people who would see him as incomplete and off-putting. 

“Weren’t you inviting me for a dance?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow and extending a hand on his own. 

“Are you sure…? Even after…”

“Come on, big guy, Isn’t it rude of you to do that, after I just accepted your invitation?” Lance pouted, making his damned best to look adorable and huffy. It seemed to do the trick because the man was hesitantly reaching for his hand and Lance didn’t let the occasion escape him. 

Linking their fingers together, he smiled at his dance partner. “Hi, I’m Lance.”

“Shiro…” The man said smiling shyly but warming Lance’s heart, seeing the nervousness melt from his eyes. 

The striking blue lupine and larkspur blooming in his hair assured Lance that, from now on, Shiro would never have to be waiting in the shrine alone and despairing because Lance would be here for him, always. The flowers tickling his ears assured him of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this whole ass other plot with Keith and stuff but that was bloating my motivation and I got rid of it. 500+words, deleted. Poof!   
> But nevertheless, I appreciate this fic more now that it's more straight to the point~


	4. Moonlight

Moonless nights have a weight of their own, Hunk thinks for the nth time as he watched Lance's slumped body against the railing of the observatory, his gaze fixed on the midnight blue sky speckled with stars. 

He had known the man for decades, for nearly as long as he had lived and every time, every nights the sky was void of the brilliance of the moon, Lance would be depressed, would drown his sorrows in alcohol. Hunk had always feared for his life, for his health because however you looked at it, it wasn't healthy. 

But no matter what, Lance would be hangover and grumpy come morning, angry at himself and at fate. He always complained about joint pains, gray hair and a dwindling vision to Hunk, complained about him stopping being attractive to others but Hunk knew that was never the truth.

After all, if you can't age, your body would not degenerate, is what he learned being with Lance. 

Because Lance had looked the same to Hunk since he was in diapers and had baby-sat him until middle school, more than thirty years ago. 

The story he loved to tell him before bed was always the same, every nights, because Hunk loved it and Lance would always look so alive during his tale. 

“The japanese are better than me at telling it.” He would say, winking at Hunk who was huddled under his covers. “But they changed the story to fit their narrative and mine is _the true story_.

“It’s the story of a thief who fell in love with a prince: once upon a time, a small time thief wanted to do a big haul so he could live comfortably for at least a year, maybe more. He never stayed at the same place for too long because it would be easier for the authorities to catch him. 

“One day, he was in this big city, whose name I don’t remember because it’s not important at all and, well, it’s gone now. In this city, the inhabitants were revering some prince whose beauty was otherworldly and whose kindness was as vast as the ocean. The thief always scoffed at stories like that because, how could this be true? Nobles were always scums and royalty were the worst of the bunch. Always has been, always will be. 

“The thief soon learned to take back his words and opinion because, one night, he got caught stealing that very same person the city folks were praising. And just as their words sounded too far fetched in his ears just days prior, the prince was exactly that.” 

Lance always laughed at this point of the story as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened and Hunk always smiled shyly at his expression, so soft and bittersweet. 

“To say the prince was stupid not to call for his guards right away after catching the thief on the act would sound made up for story’s sake but that idiot was such a saint he sat the thief down and asked him why he would steal. Not just from him, but in general. The thief would usually tell a sob story about being an orphan, of a hard, detestable life where he needed to fight every day to stay afloat but he could see the prince was genuine in wanting to listen to him. 

“So the thief told him the truth: that he had never had anywhere to go, that he had no good skill that would allow him to live normally and he had fallen into the life of crime because of a cousin of his and had felt “yes, this is what I’m good at”. He told the prince about all his misdeeds, all the nobles he had robbed. And the prince listened, looking at him like an equal, like someone worthy of being paid attention. 

“This had shaken the thief to the core, especially when the prince handed him enough gold to live his life without trouble. 

“The thief was smart but there’s no point in being intelligent when you fall in love. Because the prince was kind, generous and beautiful. This was the first instant of their regular nightly meetings.”

Hunk remembered the story, blowing on a cup of hot coffee, watching his friend, mentor, babysitter drunkenly snoring inside the observatory where Hunk had brought him back. No point in him becoming sick. This was definitely something that could and had happened and he didn’t want to have to take care of a whiny thousand something year old man. 

“The thief had never told the prince of his feelings. He would tell tales of petty fights, of grand landscapes. Of cities of pure white, of mermaids in the grand sea. The prince, who was never allowed very far outside of his palace, loved to listen to the thief’s story even if most of them were obvious lies, exaggerations. The fact the prince could travel even this way always brought a smile on his face. 

“The thief, while a professional, would soon realize he had broken one of the few rules thieves had: never allow someone to steal from you. And the prince had stolen his heart. 

“After nearly a year of night visits and over the top story telling, the prince would finally break the thief’s heart. I… It was a moonless night, it’s always a moonless night when bad news comes.” Lance would sound so broken when he told this part of the story and Hunk’s heart would be painful just hearing his tone. 

“The prince… told the thief he was going to leave. For a long time. Not understanding, the thief asked where he was going and if he could join, maybe find a job that would be on the legal side so they could be together through it but the prince. He had smiled so bitterly, so sadly the thief knew there would be no point in asking further. 

“”I’m going back home.” The prince said, tears shining in his eyes. “The moon is calling me back so I can fulfill my duties there.” The thief didn’t understand a thing, refused to understand. “This is impossible, nothing can live on the moon, it’s too high in the sky.” He would plead the prince to stop being delusional, to stop talking as if it was the last time they saw each other. 

“The thief would never be able to understand the shining light that engulfed the room shortly after, would never be able to describe the pain he felt when the prince was slowly beginning to shine from the inside out. “I wish we could stay together but you can’t follow me.” The prince looked like he was crying but no tears were on his cheeks, for he now looked ethereal, inhuman in a way only gods would look. 

“”I can wait for you.” The thief stupidly said. “No matter how long, I can wait for you. Because I know you will come back.”. He doesn’t know if the prince said something back but the light became so bright, so unbearable the thief had no choice but to close his eyes. When he was finally able to see again, he found himself back in his room, alone. Only a small bottle on the table, shining softly, told him he hadn’t dreamed. 

“There had been a label on the bottle: only drink if you can wait for me. The thief didn’t know anything else, his heart was empty, would be for centuries onward but he had the chance and the mean to fill it, however long it took. 

“Tell me, Hunk. If you had been presented with this bottle, would you have drank it?”

“I don’t know.” He muttered to the imaginary voice of his friend, covering Lance with one of the spare blankets he always stashed inside the observatory for these occasions. When he was young, he would always say ‘yes!’ because the thought of a soulmate, of being able to come back to the same person and love them just as much always appealed to him. His parents were a good example of a loving couple and he wanted that for himself, too. 

Now, looking back on it, he would say no. Just looking at how miserable it made Lance, there was no way Hunk could endure it for a month. There was no way he could do it for a millenia. Lance was a force to be reckoned with, still standing tall despite the fact his prince would never come back. 

Sighing, Hunk walked down the stairs to the lobby to do a bit of paperwork. The observatory had never been popular to begin with but since there was no moon in the sky, no one would be coming. Watching the stars had become a fading hobby as well, so Lance would be the only one inside of the building apart from him. It didn’t really matter to Hunk, because he loved those calm nights compared to the school days where classes full of turbulent children would come to try and teach them about the universe. 

It was surprising when the door opened with a soft jiggle, a man in his late thirties, wearing clothes that were far too thick for the warm outside, entered the premises. As he approached the counter, Hunk could see his hair was entirely white.

“Thank you for your patronage.” Hunk said to the man after he had paid the fees, “Please don’t mind the man sleeping on the couch near the telescopes, he’s a regular.”

“Watching a moonless night?”

“He’s… waiting… Has been for a long time. New moons always bring too many memories for him.”

“Thank you for watching over him. But it’s time we go home, now.” The man said and his eyes were gentle, a steel gray he remembered Lance praising over and over again. Hunk’s mind was struggling to comprehend the situation as the man walked up the stairs quickly, as if he was gliding over them rather than climbing them like a normal person. 

As he disappeared around the corner, Hunk’s heart began pounding in his chest as he began running after him. But just as he arrived at the top of the stairs to the door of the telescope room, a bright light illuminated it, rendering him blind to everything. When the light receded, the room was empty, silent. 

Neither the man nor Lance were inside, the door leading to the exterior walkway was still firmly locked but he couldn’t deny the truth: they were both gone. The only proof Lance had been here at all were the bunched up blankets in the couch and the rhum bottle on the floor beside it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me being frustrated by my endings is a long running joke that shows no sign of ending hahahhh  
>  _I seriously can't end fics satisfyingly!_


End file.
